


drowning butterflies

by americandy



Series: fear like you [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, M/M, Modern Era, Ned finds out, proper reaction to incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americandy/pseuds/americandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the boys are so wrapped up in each other that it becomes a good idea to slowly reveal their relationship to family. they decide to start with their father. in the aftermath, they remember their first indiscretion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drowning butterflies

**Author's Note:**

> title from "drowning butterflies" by bipolar sunshine.

When Ned finds out, he hits Jon across the face. Blood blooms where his teeth cut his lip. Ned turns to Robb suddenly and grabs him by the collar with both hands, slamming him bodily against the cabinet behind them. 

"You," he growls. "Your younger brother, your younger half-brother... You hold all of the blame here, Robb." One of his fists transforms into an angry pointing finger that he shoves in Robb's face. Jon tries to speak up but one blood-chilling look from Ned silenced any protest before it escaped his throat. 

"I don't even want to fucking think," -- his venom was particular on that word -- "about how all of this started, but Robb, you're the elder sibling. You are the one he was supposed to look to for guidance..." He falters, like he can't get past the fact that any guidance Robb may have offered led them to this conversation today. 

"For this to happen, for you to allow it, no matter what Jon was about to insist, shows an incredible lapse of judgment, a complete lack of moral code, and a sick -- sick -- heart." He let go of Robb and wouldn't look him in the eyes. 

"We're not telling Catelyn, she is not to find out, do not let her catch you." Robb caught Jon's eye and knew they were thinking the same thing, they'd been hiding from Ned and Cate for years, it wouldn't be an issue. 

"Of course." Robb croaks out.

Ned moves so he's standing between them, looking at something off in the distance that neither of his sons can see.

"I don't know how I can discipline you without the reason for the punishment coming into question. You say that this has been going on at my home, under my roof, and that thought -- the knowledge I must now bear -- disgusts me. Outwardly, obviously, you appear close as brothers. Any imposed distance I could set between you would only make the issue more obvious." 

He pauses, and Robb and Jon have no idea what's coming next. This hadn't been the outcome when they'd imagined when they decided to let their father know, let him know they were old enough to realize how true and real and unfortunately sick their love was.

"You've really... I don't know what to say, boys. You come to me with this revolting admission like a goddamn wedding announcement and I can't tell anyone without things really going to hell. You think me, quietly writing you out of the will and maybe training Bran to be the son I thought you were would be the worst of your problems? If your mother found out, Robb, you would be lucky if Jon lived through the experience. You'd be fucking out of here, not another drop from any kind of resource you depend on that she can control. I'm not sure she'd stop short of setting you, Jon, on fire and making Robb watch, just so that any literal flames his heart may have for you can be snuffed out. She'd make you leave, and surely the media would get wind of that. Can you imagine if the whole goddamn world found out what you two were up to?"

Robb wanted to interrupt and say that he'd be fucking thrilled if the whole world found out if it meant he could hold Jon's hand in his own without the fear or worry or anxiety. 

"Don't talk to me unless it's around everyone else. I have nothing to say to the likes of you anymore."

With that he turned away from them and toward the great window in his office that overlooked a dense forest. Jon and Robb decide this is their cue to leave, and they walk out like quietly, like they might be walking on literal eggshells. The second the door closes behind them, they collapse into each other, clawing and holding each other tight. 

"It'll be alright", Robb says against the skin below Jon's ear. He doesn't believe it, not yet anyway. He doesn't know where they can go from here, quietly shunned by the one person they assumed would be on their side, or remotely understanding at the very least. They hold each other in front of the oak door to their father's study for an indefinable while. Their father found what they had disgusting... They should feel the same way, but how can you deny someone who makes you feel so safe you can sleep without dreaming?

Robb noticed it when he and Jon started sharing a bed at night. They set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning, the cool blue dawn when no one is awake to see Jon creep back to his room. Whenever the alarm sounds, he wakes up to the sensation of his arms in relation to Jon's body, one sprawled over his chest and the other traveling under his back. Jon sleeps with his mouth pressed into Robb's shoulder, until he wakes up too, and smiles at the way Robb is looking at him. 

"Jon," Robb whispers to him, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. Jon grabs ahold of the hand not in his hair and brings it to his mouth, kissing Robb's knuckles.

"Yes dear," He answers, in his death croak of a morning voice. Robb's eyes look so nice in the early morning light, the lazy way his white chest rises and falls under Jon's hand... These are all reasons Jon has to ask Robb to repeat what he just asked him. Robb gave him a love tap on the head.

"I said, I was wondering if you had any dreams last night." He brings his hand up to Jon's face and holds the side of it, feeling the hard line of his jaw. He slips his thumb over the soft curve of Jon's bottom lip and the contrast is divine.

"No, now that you mention it. I can't remember any dreams." Robb tips Jon's head up just a fraction, so they can kiss easy. 

"I don't think I mind your morning breath anymore, Stark", Jon says in the quiet and confident voice that is becoming one of Robb's favorite things.

"Better not mind it, 'cause you're stuck with it." Robb pulls him down into a kiss a little forcefully but Jon is laughing because he is stuck with it, and he certainly doesn't mind.

"What about you? What do dashing heroes dream of?" Robb asks as he flops down, his head coming to rest on Jon's chest. 

"Dashing heroes used to dream about getting dashing half-brothers alone at gallery dinners for unholy purposes, if you catch my drift--" He pauses and playfully draws his fingers low down Jon's belly, just reaching the dark hair below his navel. 

"That's what dashing heroes used to dream of, but now they don't dream about anything either."

"The poets call a dreamless sleep death, you know. I can only hope it's as comfortable as laying with you."

There was a moment of quiet as those words hung over their heads.

They started their relationship when they were younger, and though it was just as honest, they weren't capable of understanding its complexities. 

They used to kiss in scared silence and then avoid each other for days... Now as they lay wrapped up in sheets and each other Jon hopes that death is as comfortable as Robb.

When they were younger, they didn't understand how much they could need each other. But now, Robb only has one vice.

Instead of fast cars or stock options or drugs (though those are fun), all Robb needs is an hour to look over Jon's back. Give him time to run the tips of his fingers over familiar skin and the occasional freckle that inhabits it. Let him run his hands over the planes of Jon's back and arms, the joints of his body. Let him kiss the places where arm becomes shoulder and shoulder becomes back, thank these parts for holding Jon together. The parts that make his brother, a wonderful, lovely boy, whole. The skin that covers ribs made of bone which hold lungs that let him breathe and a heart that carries him, of all places, to Robb's bed. 

He puts a fingertip on every visible knob of Jon's spine, feeling like the buttons he presses internally have been made outwardly visible. This vertebra is for Robb smiling at him full and proud, this one is for the way the moments they're alone and quiet together are always enjoyable. The next is for the way Robb takes care to kiss him like he's royalty, with a king's mouth dripping gold and hope. Then at the base of Jon's spine, the skin on either side is soft and sweet to touch with his fingers or lips.

As long as Robb has Jon in a bed, he has all he will ever need. 

It's unfair of Ned to say that it's Robb's fault that all of this happened. He had a great deal of guilt over what he perceived himself as having done to Jon. The things they do in love and lust can be seen as Robb taking things from Jon, and they both were very young when they began carrying on but Jon was younger, Robb was older, he should have been the one to say no.

It's so hard though, when the question goes from "will he feel the same way?" to "we both feel the same way but this is very very wrong, are we going to do this?". The way Jon couldn't hide his arousal the night Robb came to him a little drunk and wanting to diffuse the tension between himself and Jon. 

Before they were lovers as well as brothers, there would be strange periods of their relationship where they wouldn't talk or they would hate each other for a few hours or days would pass but then they would always find each other at night and talk things back down. 

Robb had thought he'd heard Jon go past his door so he slipped out too and followed a little behind as his half brother lazily made his way to the kitchen. He didn't have a shirt on and his grey sweatpants were hanging low and heavy on his hips so Robb watched the way his bones moved under his skin and followed at a distance. 

He waited until Jon started banging about in the kitchen to wander in, before sitting at a bar stool by the island in the middle of their ridiculous modern design magazine cover kitchen. Jon stormily poured himself a bowl of cocoa puffs and almond milk, putting his things away before begrudgingly sitting down by Robb to eat. Immediately, Robb swung his stool so he was facing Jon. He put a comforting hand on Jon's back.

"The girls will love you more if you're sad with them, Jon. The expression suits your features." Jon chokes when he hears Robb, stopping to clear his throat a few times before trying to collect his facial expression back to the somber one it had been a second ago. He can't though, because that is what Robb does to him.

"Love, what were are sad about anyway?" He asks this in earnest, curious about what's got his younger brother down.

"Can't talk to you about it," Jon mutters, before taking an excessive spoonful of cereal. Robb stops cold.

"Jon, from the time we were very young I made it clear you could come to me with anything. I know I've only got a few years on you, but it's something. Tell me the general subject of what you're worried about, at least."

Jon chews the inside of his cheek while he considers Robb's offer and how to classify what was troubling him without revealing himself as an absolute heathen. Robb uses Jon's hesitational silence as an excuse to get the ball rolling.

"Is it something a girl did?" Robb asks first. Jon literally snorts when he hears it, because Robb knows better, because Robb knows. A brief silence is enough for that ridiculous sentiment to be looked over, to be looked at as all it is, something Robb asks in the interest of appearances. But there is no need for that, they are alone, and that is what Jon keeps in mind as he speaks.

"How do you deal... with wanting something that's bad?" He asks carefully. Robb lets out a broad laugh; he is tipsier than Jon thought. 

"Well, it depends on what it is. Some bad things are only bad because they're good, like drugs and drink. Other things are bad because they're bad, like murder and cruelty."

Jon weighed Robb's statement in his mind. What he wanted wasn't murder, it didn't come close to being that dreadful, but one could say it's cruel. To Jon it is the cruelest thing of all, wanting after someone who is so forbidden and something that is so illicit. 

"I'm not going to kill anyone..." He begins. The hand on his back makes its way up to his neck, fingers grasping and stroking his hair a little before settling. Jon doesn't continue immediately, and Robb fills the silence with words.

"Well, I suppose that's a comfort. Is this bad thing you want something you could live without?"

What a question. Could he live without knowing if Robb would love him the way he wants? If Robb has the same twisted flights of fancy that he does, or if he is the only one gone down a depraved road. He thinks he can feel it between them sometimes, like right now, but other times, he’s not sure. Either way, he feels the overwhelming need for an answer.

“I don’t think so… I think about it all the time. At the very least I’d need to see someone, like a shrink, if I went on without it. This isn’t a situation that will diffuse itself.” Not anymore. He’s been alone with his thoughts about it for too long, it’s become too like something he could see himself doing for it to go away easy anymore. At least, not without taking a chance on it.

“God, Jon, what on earth is it? You’re making me nervous.” Any kind of expression that had been on Jon’s face dies, and he pulls away from Robb, and looks down at his bowl.

“You should be,” He murmurs quietly. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the way Robb doesn’t react at first, and then moves closer to him. One of Robb’s hands is back on the back of his neck, and the other is grabbing his wrist and then he’s being turned back towards Robb.

“Jon, you can’t say things like that.” Robb moves his hand from the back of Jon’s neck to the side of his face. He needs Jon to look at him, and know that he will understand whatever it is. He will be glad to hear whatever sadistic thing Jon is about to say. They are brothers, and they will make Jon better together. 

Jon looks up at him with eyes dark but otherwise unreadable. Robb hopes that Jon will say that terrible thing neither of them have yet been able to. He hopes Jon will find the words to excuse this act. After a heavy silence, Jon does.

“You, Robb.”

His mouth runs dry immediately and he swallows audibly.

“Jon, what do you mean?” He asks quiet and careful.

Jon looks at him with exasperation clear in every line of his face. 

“I think you know,” He says with grave desperation. 

They are in the realm of dreams and secrets and a strange sibling bond; it is implicit that no one will ever know what goes on between them. That has always been clear, some of the things they have said to each other are less than familial, and they have kept them quiet.

Robb is closer to him suddenly, closer than he has ever been, and it’s sweet to be so close to Jon and breathe him in like this. His lips are halted right above Jon’s, and he’s going to give him what he wants, but in the back of his mind a voice is shrieking about how wrong this is. It shouldn’t feel so comfortable to hold him close in hand but it does and this is where they are.

Robb is kissing him, without a final word of explanation, his parted lips are pressed on Jon’s, and intention has finally become action. They have been headed here since they were old enough to think about things that go on behind closed doors.

Jon melts under Robb, the petals that are the lips of his mouth part for him and it’s sweet, literally, because Robb can taste the cocoa puffs Jon was eating shortly before.

This is the start of their new and combined history, the one they will document together in thought and text and with mouths on skin and lungs that can’t catch air. 

Jon could kind of feel all of this, and actually kissing Robb was certainly too much for him to take. He pulled away, his face pale except for the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. 

This face is easiest for Robb to recall, and he does during times like this, when things are unclear. Remembering the look he had drawn to Jon’s face with the pull of his mouth that very first time was proof enough that what happened between them was honest, and at least good in that fact.


End file.
